Do you ignore your kindest benefactor?
Mouse-size musings from The Dalai Lama's Cat
Ingratitude. Such an unpleasant thing is it not, dear reader? Yet we witness it frequently. Tourists demanding a table at the chock-full Himalaya Book Café, ignoring the hurried and obliging efforts of Kusali to clear away the remnants of the last diners and arrange a fresh table, who then slump into chairs and bark their drinks order without a word of thanks. Jaywalkers who casually stroll in front of cars they have forced to slow, utterly ignoring the drivers they inconvenience.
But what if I was to tell you that we are, each one of us, guilty of exactly such thanklessness? That on a daily basis we overlook, ignore and take for granted the beings who are the cause of whatever good fortune we currently enjoy?
Yes, even you, dear reader. And if your eyes are narrowing at this suggestion, and whiskers beginning to bristle, well, you’re in good company. Mine did too!
I was sitting, paws tucked neatly beneath me, on the first-floor sill of the Dalai Lama’s sitting room, when I overheard the exchange that sparked this shocking recognition.
For some months a visiting Western monk had been staying at Namgyal Monastery. A lanky, middle-aged man who seemed like a seasoned practitioner, I had seen him walking alongside Geshe Wangpo several times after class, evidently making a request of some kind.
In our tradition, if a high lama is asked to give certain teachings or initiations, then he is obliged to do so. The request must always be sincere, however, and sometimes may have to be made more than once. Ah yes, I thought, watching the earnest, greying figure as he darted to Geshe-la’s side on these occasions. I knew exactly what was going on.
On this particular occasion, the encounter happened right under my window. I don’t know what teachings the monk was requesting, only that he was assuring Geshe-la of his enthusiasm – and preparedness.
“I have received empowerments from Lama Kelsang,” he was saying.
“Yes, yes,” Geshe-la appeared impassive.
“I have undertaken several three-month retreats.”
As the lama kept walking, apparently unmoved, he continued, “As a result, I have had some auspicious visions.”
Geshe-la instantly halted in his tracks. “As a result of what?”
“Of the empowerments. Of the retreats.”
Some people, who are only ever used to thinking of lamas as gentle, warm-hearted beings are startled to discover that they can just as easily transform into terrifyingly powerful figures. It is usually only senior students who witness them in wrathful form – the last resort to shake them free of complacency or sloppy thinking. Geshe Wangpo assumed exactly such a pose now.
“Don’t think the wonderful things you are experiencing have anything to do with what you’ve done in this lifetime!” he declared, pointing to the monk’s chest. “Someone a long time ago did a lot of hard work and now you’re reaping all the benefits!”
Geshe-la’s presence was all-the-more commanding given that he was well-known to be clairvoyant. He could take in everything about a person, including their past lives, as clearly as watching a TV drama series. Having delivered his message, he continued calmly across the courtyard, leaving the other monk shrinking from the force of his rebuke.
I was reminded of a similar exchange during one of Geshe-la’s classes. One of his students had spoken about an entrepreneur who had become wealthy because of his inventive solutions and hard work. Geshe-la had quickly corrected him. “Hard work. Good ideas. These are conditions for wealth. But like soil, moisture and sun, unless a seed is present, nothing will germinate. Not all entrepreneurs succeed, not so? The seed for wealth, for every good thing we experience, is the virtue we have created in a past life. We need both – seed and conditions. Never confuse them.”
On the windowsill that afternoon, it occurred to me that everything I loved about my life had come about because of a being I had been in the past. Someone I knew nothing about, but who had been sufficiently kind that I now enjoyed all the material comforts I could wish for. Someone who had been so inclined to the Dharma, that I was now fully absorbed in it. Someone who, in particular, had had such a reverence and emotional closeness to the Dalai Lama that here I was, sharing his home!
This being, or these beings, the direct causes of all my current happiness, were not ones I ever thought about. They didn’t occupy my heart or mind. Not for one moment, had I ever paused to consider my gratitude to them. Like the demanding diners at The Himalaya Book Café, or the indifferent pedestrians crossing the road, I had taken their actions completely for granted.
Musing about this on the sill, I realised that their minds had long since dissolved away, leaving only imprints on my own consciousness. But how lucky I was that they had done what they did! How grateful I felt! How happy and so very fortunate!
Contemplating their goodness gave me a strong feeling of appreciation. And along with it, the recognition that here and now I had the opportunity to be the benefactor of the unknown being I would become in the future. To give him or her the most extraordinary life imaginable! Given my relative freedom and power, why would I not?
No reason, dear reader. Except that all these conceptual leaps and bounds had left me feeling quite exhausted. Before creating the most wondrous virtues to be enjoyed by my future self, I thought, time for a nap.
As my head lolled forward, through sleepy, half-closed eyes I watched Geshe Wangpo continue on his way. Almost reaching the other side of the courtyard, he turned to face the chastened monk.
“Speak to my attendant!” he called out, his words riding on a wave of benevolence that conveyed an unmistakeable regard. “We will arrange a time.”
Above us, clouds were drifting towards the horizon, slipping away from where they had been concealing the sun. In moments I felt the deep, warm glow of late afternoon on my face. Head sinking lower, and eyelids growing heavier, as I drifted from wakefulness, for the first time I did so with a heartfelt recognition for all the beings who had gifted me this experience as The Dalai Lama’s Cat.
Dear Subscribers - It’s still relatively early days for me on Substack, and I’m trying out different themes and formats to see what resonates with readers.
In the past, I have shared chapter-length stories by the Dalai Lama’s Cat. Today I thought I’d try out a shorter soupҫon. Please let me know if you enjoy this format and would like to see more mouse-sized musings from HHC in the future. As always, I love to hear how these insights - all of which I have learned from my own teachers - resonate with you!
David, it truly does not matter which format you choose. There is always such a deep and personal teaching that resonates like a well-tuned tuning fork. Thank you!
I totaly agree with Pamala: Short or longer, written or spoken....they are all wonderful and reminders of wise ways to be here and live our lives.
However I personaly do prefer the books, and espessialy looking forward to a new HCC-book.
This blog with bookreviews, listering to meditation, the music and short stories make me verry happy on a weekly basis!